When the Dead Walk II
It had been days since the great city was sacked yet the stink of war was still rank within its walls. Only a day before had the last of the dead finally been buried or burned and their blood could still be found in the streets like crusted scars on the worn, chipped stone. Orphans ran wild throughout many districts in packs, scavenging and fighting like wild dogs. Widows still wept openly as they struggled with grief; in the face of each soldier, foreign or domestic, they were reminded of the loved one now lost. Our lady has wept much these last days. We have all felt the sorrow in this place. Maurice thought as he handed a stack of rations to a woman and her sister. The sister was so taken with grief she was at a loss for words for the soldier. She simply nodded her head and graciously accepted the supplies while fresh tears streamed down her red flushed face. Maurice watched them step lightly down the steps of the Sept and felt his heart lighten a little. We will lessen the burden on the people as we await her arrival. The soldiers of Lidiya's army had taken camp in and around the Sept of Matthias while they prepared for the arrival of their prophetess. Maurice thought back to the day of the battle, how he had sat beside her and looked on at the city still dark and unaware. He remembered how she had commanded him to breach the northwest gate with a group of Tigahn's soldiers, to keep them close and watched. How she had commanded him to take the Sept and keep it safe with all his strength. And how she had ordered him to capture Tigahn's people after the battle for the Sept was won. He had done it all, without question, and the battle had been won. Lidiya had returned to Lamium to muster her full strength. She left the city well supplied and in the care of decent leaders. Lidiya was only roughly a day from Leva Adium and was set to meet Darshia the following morning. They would meet before his coronation on these very steps. The ration line had dwindled down so Maurice finally relinquished the duty to another soldier after the young man had urged him to get some rest. Walking down the steps he remembered how it felt to walk up them for the first time. He did not know which had been harder. After boating the river along the cities walls and storming the gate he had led his soldiers in a direct line for the Sept. They fought through the streets and alleys with ruthless force, cutting down anyone who stood before them and had reached the Sept by mid-morning. He was shocked upon arriving to see three warriors holding off its entrance from a wave of Nashuss' city guard. He first caught sight of an elf standing a few steps down from the door, fair and tall she whipped and slashed her sword across wrist, thigh and neck with vicious speed. Beside her a thick armed man with an equally thick beard threw his ax monstrously into any man swift (or foolish) enough to push passed the elf's strikes. Up behind them at the door stood another man. His heavy armor rattled as he laughed and sent shots at foes all around them; he snatched arrows from a bucket at either side, sometimes knocking more than one at a time. Maurice did not know why but he felt compelled to help them. "With me!" ''He remembered shouting and motioning with his sword, ''"With the three! Defend the Sept!" ''His soldiers had charged behind him unquestioning. That had made him proud. They fought together well throughout the morning and into the afternoon as waves of combatants slowly fell to trickles and pockets of resistance. Sometime in the haze of battle the trio had disappeared. Many dead piled the steps, however their bodies were not among them; Maurice had stacked many personally, so he held hope of their survival. The soldiers that survived now help camp here within sight of the Sept and the eyes of the Gods. They gathered around fires to tell stories of battle and compare old scars to new wounds. Some sang songs of great victory and others hummed laments for friends who had fallen. The mood was somber before but as the coronation of the new King loomed closer the spirits grew higher. Maurice listened in, weaving in and out of camps to congratulate soldiers and commend them for duty. He paused in his rounds and stood at a fire of many soldiers. An excited man with a heavy mustache and dressed in his blood stained surcoat had just begun a story about Darshia's forces: "...so as a couple o' the lads here know, we was off yesterday getting supplies from the ''new ''city guard." He looked around and gave a big smirk. "Now you see I know you all have heard the rumors...." He took a drink from his mug then sucked the moister from mustache before continuing "...abou' those....''cannibals." ''He look around the circle with wide eyes and devious smile. Maurice said nothing although he silently despised the rumors that Darshia had allowed and army of cannibals to raid the city. "Well they be true." The story teller continued, "I was talkin' with one o' Darshia's lads out near the Hall o' Lords and he said he'd seen two men eat ole Tigahn's boy." He stopped whispers of objections quickly by raising his hand and shaking his head. "Jerma heard it too, right?" He motioned to a soldier that stood across the circle. "Aye" A man with long dark hair raised his drink, "Tis true. Said they tore his armor off as he was still bleeding out; ate him alive right in the heat of battle." The crowd all began to mutter and joke which took Maurice's mood down into a low level of discomfort. ''Oh how quickly tales become truth... He left the circle as the soldiers began a joke about who had really killed Nashuss. "His own men did him in..." "Nay! It was his mistress...smothered him with her teats..." "You dumb shits. He sent off his guard then cut his own throat..." Let them joke. There will be no jokes once training for the North begins. Maurice finally found his reserves depleted and decided it was most likely a good idea to sleep. After three straight days of toil and cleanup he was ready for a good night's sleep. His tent was small and mixed in with the rest of the unit. Quietly he slipped in and felt his weariness leave him once again as the sight of his desk came into view. He lit a candle and took a seat at the small table beside his bed to finalize the plans for tomorrow. Camp breakdown at first light... Meet Lidiya at one of three gates...unknown till tomorrow...escort her to the Sept.... Be ready for anything..... Maurice breathed easy for a moment, shuffling through papers on his table. He knew that they had suffered a great deal but for now the battle was won, they were safe and had time to rest. At least for now, they could take time to be happy. Then why am I so afraid. He knew the reason. He flipped open a book to a page already marked. It was the third chapter of Herman Aramyr's guide to Rhivic, Perils of the Tundra. Those perils he was certain were on everyone's mind. But to Maurice Grecko, Commander of Lidiya's Army, it was like a cold splinter that was working deeper into his mind, freezing his courage and corrupting his thoughts. "Tomorrow will be warm and beautiful." He spoke aloud trying to be confident. But in Rhivic it will be cold. Cold and dangerous............. Maurice's mind ran with fear. He remained at his desk all night reading and taking notes until he collapsed on the table from exhaustion. Category:Character lore